A Poem For Barcelona

shoes at the door

The flavors of Las Ramblas
Not just chocalate but chocolate comes to mind
the vanilla, the espresso, the cafe creme,
The running river of people and dreams
The colors blended into the graffiti
The Moroccans and Libyans and Catalans and Spaniards
Americans Canadians French Italians Australians Chinese
Japanese Syrians Mexicans Bolivians Peruvians
Haitians Nigerians Algerians the Kiwis the humanity
Oh the humanity, the humanity of Las Ramblas

UNESCO Sites and Football Club Barcelona shirts and street performers
A strange mixture that complements the Picasso flavors and the Gaudi visions
Pickpockets be damned as Columbus looks on at sex workers below
Oblivous to the violence he brought – the new world he wrought
Lorca’s wish that the street should never end
This center of arts, it touches our hearts.

Las Ramblas. It is not for driving. It is not for cars.
This promenade, this boulevard for strolling.

Cars be damned. We don’t need them any longer.
These shoes, perhaps, but now some shoes are no longer needed.
Fools. These miserable fools. Dying and killing and all is in vain.
Vain vein vane of fools. Pane, pain, Paine a fool.
The world is my country, all mankind are my brethren, and to do good is my religion.

To do good is my religion. The world is my country. We shall overcome you with goodness.

News Reporter

Damitio  (@vagodamitio) is the Editor-in-Chief for Vagobond. Life is good. You can also find him on Google+ and at Facebook